


Do You Feel It? - Chaos Chaos

by mortysmithh



Series: Rick and Morty songfics [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Can You Feel It by Chaos Chaos, Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, I DO'N KT NO w, Incest, M/M, Makeouts, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4987447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortysmithh/pseuds/mortysmithh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm not creative with titles I'm SO rrY<br/>Also here because I got so sad after rewatching the season finale for the twenty thousandth time and yEah here I'm not creative and my ideas aren't creative by E</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Feel It? - Chaos Chaos

_Lay it, lay it down, let me see your hand_

_Show me what you got_

Rick’s gruff voice still sounds in his head, sometimes. It happens when he’s laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating how long it would take, how many bottles of alcohol that haven’t been touched since they moved back into the house that it would take for him to die. How much of that bitter cat-piss alcohol would he have to drink to leave the world that used to be so bright and full of Rick.

_You're always talking, but you're not playing_

_It doesn't match your face_

Then he’ll fall asleep, always after twelve but never after three; he can’t bear the thought of still being awake, in a hope he knows by now is futile, for Rick to come drag him out of his bed, feet-first and demanding Morty’s help with some crazy, probably illegal scheme.

_Gotta find my way, away from this place_

_Can you take me now_

The dreams were good, at first. They were an escape from reality, a reprieve from the bitter truth that Rick is gone forever, from the fact that he’ll never smell the sour scent of stomach acid and straight-up vodka burped into his face as they’d sit cramped together in a box, doing their best to avoid getting killed by some furious alien stalking around outside.

_I-I want it, I want it real_

He’d begun sleeping more, smoking more, started taking more and more alcohol from the shelf to sate his need to try and recreate that same, disgusting scent, even if it always smells too much like a drunken teenager and not a sociopathic old man. Then he’d stopped sleeping so much. It felt too fake, he knew it was fake every time, and suddenly it stopped being pleasurable to rest, it was only a ticking time bomb until he woke up, gasping for breath and still feeling Rick’s warm hands on his shoulders, still hearing that oddly-comforting voice reassuring him that everything’s alright and that he’s still there, he isn’t tucked somewhere far away in space jail where he’ll never escape from because nobody escapes from that jail.

_Are you afraid of me now?_

_Are you afraid of me now?_

The loss of Rick had been enormous, at first. He’d spent hours simply sobbing into his pillow, refusing to go to school, refusing to eat. He’d lost twenty pounds in a week and only Summer was able to coax a few spoonfuls of plain oatmeal into him; any more and he’d vomit, feel like he wasn’t worth the effort, like he was stealing away food that Rick should’ve been eating, side-by-side with the rest of the family.

_Do you feel it, do you feel it?_

_Do you feel that I can see your soul?_

Then he’d grown…well, not numb. He’d grown a shell, something that he only occasionally let Summer into, although the times he’d show emotion are growing slimmer and slimmer as his alcohol consumption grows and grows.

_Do you feel it, do you feel it?_

_Do you feel the beat in your heart_

Rick tries to kill himself exactly five hundred and twenty-eight times while he’s in the prison. He only comes close to succeeding twice, when he manages to piss off a guard enough that it almost shoots him in the head. He laughs, when the muzzle’s up in his face, laughs through the tears and the burning in his stomach and the cold, dead weight in the place he thinks his heart used to be, because death is all he wants right now. He never lived for himself, he’d realized a few weeks into being imprisoned. He’d lived for science, for inventing new things, for his newly-reinstated relationship with his daughter and son-in-law, and for Morty. Mostly for Morty.

_I-I want it, I want it real_

_Run away with me now_

Then one day, he gets lucky. He steals a gun, manages to hop onto a cargo ship that’s headed for planet Zedrid in dimension T-37R15. It never makes it as he puts in the coordinates to Earth, prays that they haven’t forgotten him, and he feels so selfish for torturing them with his existence, knows that he could never blame them if they’d cut him out of their lives completely, but he has to know, he has to check.

_I-I want it, I want it real_

_Run away with me now_

He goes to Morty’s room first, doesn’t give a fuck if Morty throws something at his head, doesn’t care if he’s thrown out of the goddamn window. He needs to see his grandson. But as soon as he walks in, he only hears a shocked ‘R-Rick-?!’ before the entire room dissolves and the chittery, insectile sound of laughter surrounds him. The sound that the guards make every time they put him through a new simulation, and it’s ironic because he knew it was too good to be true but he couldn’t help but to hope.

_Somedays I'm build of metal, I can't be broken_

_But not when I'm with you_

Then too-thin, wiry arms are wrapped tight around his waist and he nearly can’t breathe with the grip around his gut. The torture they had put him through was apparently too much for him, and he sees things that aren’t there, were never there. There’s wetness on his gut, wetness on the gash above his right eye, wetness on his own cheeks as the ringing in his ears dulls to near-nonexistence and the sound of Morty’s relieved sobbing echoing throughout the half-destroyed room is the only sound he hears. 

_You love me real, we have it all_

_Can't leave me now_

Rick Sanchez from dimension C-139 had managed to escape from prison, jump onto an unidentified ship driven by one of his best friends, Squanchy, and made it to his Morty before the ship had driven off. Apparently Squanchy wasn’t that great of a driver and had crashed, tossing Rick to the floor before leaving to avoid getting caught by any of the Galactic Federation.

_I love the way, you are today_

_Run away with me now_

Morty Smith from dimension C-139 is in shock and so relieved that he promptly passes out, having been unable to breathe and still half-drunk when his Rick had arrived.

_Wind in my hair, cause I don't care_

_Baby run away with me now_

_Run away with me now_

When he wakes up, it’s to the gentle petting of his damp, matted hair, and to the soft, worried murmurings of Rick’s voice going ‘shit, a-are you okay, Morty? My Morty, please- p-please be okay, fuck’. An idiotic grin comes to his lips as he hears the words ‘my Morty’, and, vision still slightly blurred, he surges up to wrap his arms around Rick’s neck, sobbing into the crook of the older’s neck and choking out ‘R-Rick, my Rick, R-Ric- Rick, m-my- my Rick’ over and over again until he can’t breathe again and he has to pull back to stare at Rick, look into his shocked eyes as if to reassure himself that Rick’s really there.

_Do you feel it, do you feel it?_

_Do you feel that I can see your soul?_

And then he’s smashing his lips up against those cold, unnaturally dry lips, uncaring of keeping up appearances any longer. He’d thought he had all of the time in the world to show Rick affection, but now he knows he’ll never take Rick for granted ever again. He expects Rick to pull away, disgust on his expression, but the older just chokes out a muffled sob of what’s probably Morty’s name and kisses back harder, and someone’s lip is pinched and someone starts to bleed because the metallic, bitter taste of blood is in-between their mouths but neither care and both continue kissing as if it’s the last thing either will ever do again.

_Do you feel it, do you feel it?_

_Do you feel the beat in your heart?_

Choked-out apologies, sobbed-out gratitude, amazed questioning from Morty, and exhaustion that far surpasses Rick’s years in his voice, in the way he holds himself, in the way he speaks with much more gravel than can possibly be gained from partying too hard. “I-I love you, Rick, I-I’m- I’m so sorry that- I-I n- n-never told you, I-I’m never going to forget e-ev- ever again,” Morty chokes out.

_I-I want it, I want it real_

_Run away with me now_

Rick just laughs, teary-eyed and still hiccupping and still trying to stop hyperventilating so hard because this is still his Morty, his Morty still loves him, and he’s never once told his Morty just how much he loves him. “I-I- I love you too, Morty, fuck, y-you- you’ll never- I-I’ll never hurt you again, I-I fucking- I swear, M-Morty,” and he’s not burping because he was forced through detox but he can taste the alcohol on Morty’s lips and it upsets him, makes him cry even harder because he’s made Morty into the thing that Rick hates most: Rick.

_I-I want it, I want it real_

_Run away with me now_

Everything’s too much, and they only end up speaking for a few more minutes before both abruptly pass out, tears still streaming and their grips deathly-tight on each other, as though they’re terrified of the very thought that Rick might leave, that Morty might just be some sick dream that’ll disappear once Rick wakes up.

_Oh, oh_

_Oh oh_

And then Morty wakes up, and he doesn’t realize that he’s in the arms of his grandfather and he starts crying again, because that dream was too realistic and it burns through the ice that was over his heart, and it’s like he’s lost Rick all over again and he’s just started shaking when his eyes snap open at the feeling of something- no, some _one_ moving and grunting.

_Oh, oh_

_Oh oh_

And the sunlight streaming through the window illuminates Rick’s too-thin hair, his too-gaunt face, his too-tired eyes and the too-deep wrinkles underneath them, and to Morty it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and he surges forwards to kiss him again, choking on his own spit but at least this time he’s not breathing quite as hard, and he can look at Rick all he wants to.

_Drinking in the summer, I'm good at running_

_I beat you in the race again_

And Rick wakes up with shock in his eyes, and both of them have red eyes, swollen from all of that crying, and Rick’s forehead is swollen and the skin is irritated around where the gash on his eyebrow is crusted over with a nasty brown scab, but he doesn’t care, only kisses Morty back so hard that someone bleeds again and he starts crying because his Morty’s still here, it wasn’t a dream, he’s holding and kissing his grandson and something in the back of his mind screams ‘this is wrong!’ but he tells that part of his brain to go fuck itself, he’s had time to feel bad for himself and it’s time to stop giving a shit, it’s time to start loving Morty like he should have all those years ago.

_Are you afraid, when I look your way_

_It's easiest to stay at home_

The first few weeks are spent in Morty’s room, and by now, the entire family’s realized that Morty is to be left alone, there’s no healing the hole that Rick left, and so they’re free to cuddle, to enjoy each other, to kiss and makeout and maybe grind a little bit because they’re giddy and they’re ecstatic at the fact that they’re together.

_But then we taste it, we got to have it_

_We have no control_

Countless ‘I love you’s are traded between the two, and they hold hands even as they walk downstairs, Rick tearing up once more and gasping out an apology as he’s hugged so tightly by Beth that several of his vertebrae crack loudly. Morty can’t help but to giggle, wiping away a few tears that are in his eyes as he squeezes Rick’s hand gently, their fingers still intertwined.

_Where is the love, the kind we dream of_

_The kind that makes us young_

_The kind that makes us young_

Rick tells him one day, while they’re laying in Morty’s bed and trading quiet, whispered confessions at four in the morning. He looks much healthier; skin with a warmer glow, his bones no longer visible, and the bags under his eyes are considerably lighter and smaller, and he tells Morty that the reason he’s been trying at all is because of Morty. His Morty, he reminds the shorter with a small peck to the giggling young adult’s nose. “Y-You- you make me believe i-in- in love, again, y-y’know,” he stammers out, a small burp following after because he’s still an awful influence and they trade kisses with alcohol in them so often that they’re nearly always at least somewhat buzzed. Morty blushes and tells him that Rick was his first and only love, and it makes Rick warm inside, fills up the void that was once there with even more love, and his heart’s nearly overflowing now but he knows he can never have too much of his Morty’s affections.

_Don't leave me_

_Never leave me out_

Rick finds a way to keep himself the age he is, and Morty’s delighted, because immortality would be pointless without Rick, and he was considering killing himself, but now he knows he never wants to die, not when he knows there’s still forever to live with Rick.

_Don't leave me_

_Never leave me out_

Just you and me Morty, the outside world is our enemy, Morty! We’re the only friends we’ve got, Morty. It’s just Rick and Morty! Rick and Morty and their adventures, Morty! Rick and Morty forever and forever, a hundred years Rick and Morty somef- things. Me and Rick and Morty, runnin’ around and Rick and Morty time! Just- all day long, forever! A hundred days, Rick and Morty forever a hundred times!

_Don't leave me_

_Never leave me out_

“It’s just you and me forever, Morty, I-I promise that it’ll always just be the two of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr's mortysmithh, leave me fic requests and pls pls comment below if you want!!


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